


King of Cups

by LadyKnightSkye



Series: Kings and Queens [2]
Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal POV, Animal Training, F/M, Family, Feathered Raptors, Headcanon, Humor, Light Supernatural Elements, Most Movie Events Will Still Occur, Raptors, Tarot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:10:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightSkye/pseuds/LadyKnightSkye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen Grady grew up loving animals and wanting to understand them. After a disastrous experiment with the Navy blows up in his face he is offered the chance to work with the world's most dangerous living creatures: Velociraptors. He designs his experiment down to the T, but he doesn't count on one thing.</p>
<p>How much he's going to love these animals. </p>
<p>Eventual raptor squad shenanigans and Owen/Claire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Boy Who Will Tame Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I was truly floored with the overwhelming and positive response to the one-shot I wrote. I mean, I really wasn't expecting that much love! I had already decided to continue the story, flesh it out more, but when I saw all the comments and kudos, it made my day. 
> 
> So we start here with the very beginning - how Owen ended up working with the raptors, and how he grew to love these animals. Also, forgive the slight fantasy edge I'm throwing on here - you'll see where I'm going with it soon. (And I'm not going too fantasy here, just some mentions of the paranormal popping up here and there!) Once again, I hope you enjoy this foray into the world of Jurassic World~! Enjoy!

June 27, 1980

Marlene Grady looked down at her son with a smile of radiant happiness. Her beautiful baby boy. She opened the swaddling, examining everything about him from his perfectly formed little fingers down to his tiny little toes. “I love you,” she murmured, tears in her eyes. 

“Marlene! Let me see him!” The woman looked up to her Aunt Zara, and smiled. She handed the older woman the baby, and Zara cooed. Zara was only about ten years older than Marlene, born as a very late life baby to Marlene’s grandparents. Zara’s dark hair was teased out in the current style, a bandana holding it away from her face. “Hey there little Owen! A good name for you baby!”

“Why?” Marlene asked, wondering if Zara was about to go off into her woo-woo crap. Zara liked to say to all and sundry that she had the Sight, and that generations of Kings had had special talents right back to their Celtic ancestors. Marlene thought that was crap, but Zara made good money giving people life advice, so who was she to complain?

“It means ‘young warrior’ and it’s a good Welsh name.” She cooed again at the baby before pulling out her Tarot cards. Zara had made them herself, claiming that by doing so she infused them with even more power. Marlene secretly thought it was because Zara couldn’t find any on the market that she liked enough to buy and wanted a custom deck to suit her own taste in fantasy imagery. She watched her aunt spread the cards out in a fan, and then close her eyes. A faint humming issued from the other woman’s through before she pulled a card. 

“The King of Cups. Good!” She looked up to Marlene. “He will grow up to be balanced between his masculine and feminine, and will be loving and kind.” She drew another card. “Ah! The lovers! He’ll enjoy an important partnership in his life with the . . .” She pulled another card, but this time she cocked her head. “Queen of Swords. But . . . I’m getting something else. He will have more than one Queen.” She showed Marlene the card. The picture was one of a woman raising a sword over her head while riding a dragon. “Something tells me that it isn’t just the woman . . . it’s the dragon as well.”

Marlene had learned long ago that to dismiss anything her aunt said was to invite hurt feelings. But at the same time . . . Zara sounded strange. Like she did that time she said that her mother needed to warn her father about driving home. Grandpa had almost died in an accident that night . . . “What else?”

“The last card is . . . The Chariot. He will work towards a goal, and it will be . . . No, the Chariot is something else . . .” Zara cocked her head, looking down at the child with a strange look, and Marlene felt chills creeping up her back. “He’s riding the Chariot . . . with dragons . . . and a woman . . . The Queens of Swords. Queens that are not to be trifled with.” 

She blinked, as if coming back to herself. “You’re going to have a very interesting life, Owen-my-love.”  
~~  
March 14, 1991

Marlene couldn’t breathe. She was not doing this. She was not standing at the kitchen window overlooking the backyard, and watching her ten year old son staring down a _Goddamned cougar._

Boy and cat stared at one another, the cougar pacing closer, the boy staying right where he was. Marlene thought about crying out, telling him to run, but she was afraid that would only incite the cat to anger. All she could do was stand and shake in absolute fear for her child’s life. 

And said child seemed completely unaware of his danger. She could see his lips moving, and she knew he was talking to the creature. As gently as she could, she pulled up the window, and her son’s voice began to float through the window. “Hey there big guy,” he said in that boyish soprano of his. “You’re really pretty you know that? Oh, wait, you’re a girl! And a very pretty girl! Certainly prettier than the girls I go to school with.”

Marlene nearly laughed out loud. Her poor boy wasn’t the most socially adept kid ever, and he was especially nervous around girls now that he’d apparently decided at a young age that he liked them. “Yeah, you’re pretty,” he said, and the cougar stopped right in front of him. “But what’re you doing here? Why’re you in my yard? Shouldn’t you be out in the Glades, hunting? I know there aren’t a lot of you left, and I don’t want any body to shoot you, pretty girl. Go on back.”

The cat growled a bit in her throat. “Oh, quit it! You’re not going to hurt me. I can tell. Your ears are up, your fur is down, and you’re not going to try to hunt something straight on. Go find you a whitetail to munch on.”

And just like that, as if the cat could understand English, it stalked back into the little stand of trees behind his house. Marlene felt a moment of relief before she wrenched open the back door and screamed, “ _Owen Xavier Grady, what in the hell were you doing?!_ ”

“Mama, you shouldn’t say hell.”

Nearly hysterical with worry, the woman ignored her son in favor of grabbing him up in a tight hug. “Owen, baby, what were you doing?! That thing could have killed you!”

“It’s okay Mama, she was never going to attack unless I made her mad. Like I told her, her ears were up, her fur was flat, and she wasn’t hunting me.”

Marlene set her son back down once they were inside the house. “What do you mean honey?”

“I’ve been reading about cougars. Their behavior and stuff. Its really cool. I wanna be a zoologist when I grow up.”

She sighed. “That’s great baby, but next time you see that cougar, come inside okay?”

Owen decided that it was probably good not to tell Mama that he’d named the cougar Sam, and she came around almost every day at five o’clock.


	2. The Girl Who Will Rule The World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the positive feedback! I'm glad so many people are enjoying this!

Card: Death  
 _Transformation and change._

April 27, 1993

The little redhead sitting in front of the TV wasn’t watching cartoons. Her eyes were glued to a program explaining the fate of the dinosaurs. Luminous grey-green eyes were fixed on the screen, fascination writ large across her face. The picture was of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, and the little girl hugged her favorite doll close, murmuring to the creature on the screen, “You are so cool.”

“Come on Claire! Not this again! I really wish Mom hadn’t bought you that stupid video!” Slender adolescent legs blocked Claire’s view of the screen, and she looked up into the eyes of her older sister. “Why can’t you watch Scooby-Doo like a normal kid?”

Claire scrunched up her nose in disgust. “Who cares about a silly dog? I want to watch the dinosaurs!”

Karen huffed out a laugh. “What’s so great about dinosaurs? Its not like you’re ever going to see them.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Claire cried, “They’re cool and nothing you say will make me change my mind. One day . . . One day I’m going to meet a dinosaur!”

Karen laughed long and hard at that.   
~~  
July 15, 2000

Fifteen year old Claire Dearing was driving her family nuts. Karen had been spared this, but Mr. and Mrs. Dearing had been treated to the worst case of a fifteen-year-old-acting-like-she’s-five they’d ever seen. The gangly youth was nearly bouncing herself into the ceiling with her excitement and impatience. “Buytheticketsbuytheticketsbuythetickets,” she was whispering over and over. 

“Claire, dear, the bones aren’t going anywhere,” Mr. Dearing said with a somewhat repressive tone. He was beginning to be embarrassed by her behavior. 

Mrs. Dearing seemed to have a bit more patience. “Easy there Claire. We’re next in line.”

It was with much relief that Mr. Dearing handed over the money to pay for three adult tickets, but as soon as she could, Claire all but sprinted ahead. Her mother shook her head. Claire had begged and pleaded to go to Chicago for their vacation, specifically to visit the Field Museum. Mrs. Dearing hoped that it was all that Claire had dreamed, because ever since the exhibit had opened, it was all the girl could talk about. Mr. Dearing thought it was all foolish nonsense – Claire wasn’t interested in going into paleontology, so why the obsession? But Mrs. Dearing understood that sometimes the things that are dearest to your heart aren’t always what you’ll spend your life pursuing. Claire would never be a paleontologist, but she would always love the creature they were about to see. 

Claire raced as fast as she could through the corridors of the museum, and when she finally reached the open hall that housed the object of her search . . . she began to cry. Towering over the visitors gathered around her, mouth open in an eternal roar, stood the skeleton known as Sue. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, taking in every feature. She circled the skeleton, snapping pictures on her nifty little camera she’d gotten for her birthday. 

As soon as she saw her parents she rushed over and said, “I’m going up to look at her skull!” Without waiting for an answer, she raced up the stairs to the second floor. She approached the skull with reverence. “So cool.”

~~  
October 14th, 2004

Mr. and Mrs. Dearing were right, Claire would never become a paleontologist. However, Claire would get her wish to meet dinosaurs – as a freshman in college, Claire was hired to be the Personal Assistant for a very important man. James Stanton, director of Jurassic World. She was over the moon at the fact that she’d gotten the job, and even more so at the benefits package. Masrani would pay for her to finish her college via special online schooling, and she would receive real world training in the running of a theme park. 

A theme park full of dinosaurs. 

Her first morning on the island, she went exploring. They were still rounding up the old specimens left over from the first disastrous attempt over ten years ago, but they had the crowning jewel of their collection already in her permanent paddock. Claire was up early in the morning to see her, and she couldn’t help but smile through her tears. “So beautiful.”  
The creature was scarred and looked like she would eat humans for snacks. Her skin was a pebbled brown, and her large eyes held a sort of predatory intelligence. Claire wondered how smart she really was. Maybe that could be a line of research? She reached out and touched the glass, enchanted by the giant on the other side.

The Rex seemed to notice, and stepped towards the glass. The dinosaur and the young woman stared at one another for a moment before the dinosaur snorted into the glass. Claire imagined that she could feel the heat and damp of the exhalation. The young woman had always been goal oriented – set a goal, and go for it. Its how she’d gotten this job, and she made a promise to herself at that moment. 

Rexie here wouldn’t be the only queen on this island. 

With that decision made, she went out to begin her duties, and her schooling in how to handle a theme park of this caliber. Her first lesson proved to be a harsh one that wouldn’t leave her for ten long years. 

Claire stared at the memo, blinking several times. “Sir?”

Stanton looked up from another report, his eyes bored. “What is it Darling?”

She tightened her jaw, reminding herself that she was dealing with an old school businessman who hadn’t gotten the memo that in the 21st century men didn’t demean women in the workplace. “Why is there such a large order for the lab to create these specific animals? According to our numbers, the round up would yield plenty of stegos and –“

“First lesson, little girl, these aren’t animals, they’re assets.” His condescension set her teeth on edge. “And the ones rounded up are flawed. We’re culling anything that has the defective amphibian mix in their genes.”

She looked up at him in horror. “You’re going to kill over a hundred animals –“

“No, Darling, we’re going to eliminate defective assets. Used and abused goods. Don’t worry, the scientists have already administered a huge dose of euthanasia to each one.”

She stared down at her clipboard, and she guessed her face telegraphed her unease because when she looked back up, Stanton was looking up to her with a small smile. “Hey, I’m not saying this to be cruel, and I’m not endorsing cruelty to these creatures. But they aren’t real – these are not dinosaurs from 65 million years ago reborn. They’re genetically modified theme park monsters. You think of them as anything but, and you’re in for a world of trouble. You run the business side of things – you let the handlers worry about how the assets are cared for.”

Claire nodded, his words making a sick sort of sense. Then, she swallowed. Maybe Stanton wasn’t what she originally thought . . . “I’ll send this memo down to Research immediately.” Then she looked him right in the eye. “And my name is Dearing sir, not Darling.”

As she walked from his office, Claire didn’t see the big smile wreathing his face. 

The days passed, and she watched Stanton get the park off the ground with minimal fuss, his words always reverberating through her mind. Her wonder began to wither, and her eyes stopped seeing living creatures. In a way it was a blessing, since she realized that when she became director it would be up to her whether to keep or discard assets. It would be lives in her hands for the human beings on the island, and they had to come first. So Claire Dearing lost all of her outward love and wonder for dinosaurs.

All except for one . . .


	3. Masrani's Schemes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *bows* I thank everyone who has kudos'd and left such wonderful comments. I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this.
> 
> I hope that you guys will also like some of the changes that are coming. When I first sat down to write this story, it was supposed to be completely canon compliant, and merely an expansion of the world of Jurassic World. 
> 
> But then the dreaded plot bunnies began to breed. 
> 
> First, it was going to be floofy raptors, because come on - adding Bird DNA to creatures that already had feathers wouldn't give us floofy feathery goodness? Then, it was the idea that Masrani would survive because really, who in their right mind would 1) not have a licensed helo pilot on the island, and 2) would honestly allow an inexperienced pilot to fly an op where people can get hurt? And well . . . it snowballed from there. 
> 
> Just warning you now because the tags are about to be changing, and I didn't want people wondering why.
> 
> And speaking of floofy raptors, guess who's going to show up next chapter! *coughbluecough*
> 
> Again, and with all seriousness, thank you for your support and enjoyment of this story.

January 15, 2012

Captain Larry van Housen was not a bit surprised when the door to his office slammed open, and one very pissed off SEAL stalked in. He glanced up at the young man in front of him and put down the report in his hand, appropriately enough detailing the same operation Petty Officer Grady was probably about to blast him about. However, this didn’t faze the superior officer a bit. For one thing, he had rank, for another, he genuinely liked Grady and wouldn’t take this disrespect to heart. Especially since his wayward personal assistant was currently peeping in as if he was about to watch the mother of all knock-out-drag-outs. 

Which he might just if Grady’s face was any indication. 

“Sailor, just what in God’s green Earth are you doing busting down my door?” van Housen said in his most authoritative tone. He would allow a bit of shit from this young pup, but Grady needed to remember who was boss of SEAL Team Six. 

“You can’t kill her.”

Captain van Housen blinked, having not anticipated that reaction. He had thought the SEAL was in here to lambast him about assigning a little greenhorn to his platoon just so the kid could lose an arm to Big Bertha. The rest of the SEALs in Grady’s platoon were either animal behaviorists like Grady or had plenty of experience being taught by their fellows. The kid had been brand new, and from the debriefing van Housen had seen, hadn’t had a damn clue on how to act around tiger sharks. “That’s not my decision to make. It came down from on high. SECNAV isn’t happy about one of ‘his boys’ losing an arm to a fish. He doesn’t see the applications of this protocol as being worth the risks. Especially when your side project with the dolphins seems to be working better.”

Grady visibly let out a deep breath. “The dolphins are one thing. Flipper and Company are all well and good, but dammit you can’t euthanize Bertha!”

The Captain decided that he’d had enough. “You cannot tell me what I can and cannot do Grady. This was your operation, your damn experiment, and it blew up in your face. Don’t blame me because your genetically engineered shark is too dangerous to work with.”

“She isn’t too dangerous! Bertha’s a calm lady, and you can’t euthanize her just because of one incident!” Grady snarled back. “But she’s not a tame puppy. You can’t give me inexperienced guys and expect everything to go all peachy! That kid was asking for it.”

Feeling his jaw drop to somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles, van Housen gave Grady the most perfect expression of incredulity ever to grace a man’s face. “Grady, you did not just blame the victim of an animal attack in my presence,” he said softly, holding up a hand when Grady went to argue. “You also did not just slam into my office and _demand_ that I refuse a direct order from SECNAV. In fact, you were never here so that I do not have any goddamned reason to dishonorably discharge your ass! Am I clear Sailor?”

The look of mutiny was still strong in Grady’s eye. This kid would make a great commander of men, van Housen thought, if only he weren’t so invested in animals. It had been a God-send when he’d graduated BUD/S at almost the same time he’d gotten his first degree in Zoology with an emphasis in Animal Behavior. Team Six had snapped the kid up, promising to pay for a full on degree in Animal Behavior in exchange for a serious attempt to train dolphins to help the teams. Which had also led to an intriguing experiment partnering with InGen on tiger sharks . . .

Finally, the younger man backed down. There was a look that van Housen knew well, the look of a man that had had enough. Grady would probably be handing in his discharge papers here soon. He’d done fourteen years in the Navy, over twelve in the SEALs, and he’d earned the right to call it quits if he needed. The Captain wasn’t unaware of Grady’s bond with Bertha, as the shark was called. The reserved man was known to talk to the animal sometimes when he thought no one was around, and scuttlebutt said that Grady’s only steady date in years had been that shark. In the same way, Bertha seemed to actively seek Grady’s company, swimming with him without an ounce of aggression in the sleek lines of her body. 

Captain van Housen couldn’t blame the man for what would come next. He glanced back down at his desk, at a proposal that InGen had made to the American Armed Forces at large, and then looked back up at Grady. “Go say goodbye to your friend,” was all he said. He didn’t need to add the dismissal, Grady simply nodded and saluted, leaving with an air of defeat so depressing that the Captain just shook his head. 

Looking back down at the proposal, he cocked his head. “Jensen!”

His beleaguered PA poked his head in. “Yes sir?”

“Call Masrani. Tell them we have a candidate for their Raptor Response program we’d like to recommend.”  
~~  
Owen sat on the rim of Bertha’s huge tank, and felt like crying for the first time since he was ten and had looked at Sam’s mangled body on the side of the road. Captain van Housen’s admonishment had come too late – by the time Owen had gotten back, the deed had been done. The rest of his platoon had looked on with sad eyes, many of them almost as attached to Bertha as he had been. Owen’s right hand man, Jacob, had held out a clenched fist to him as he watched the shrouded body be taken to be burned. Not one shred of DNA could be left, but Jacob had slipped him something as the team had bowed their heads to the estimable Bertha. 

He hadn’t looked at it, but Owen knew that it was a tooth. The action could get them in huge trouble, but Owen appreciated the gesture. Now he had something to remember Bertha by. He’d invested so much of himself into that animal. Hell, when they joked about his longest meaningful relationship was with her, the guys weren’t far off. His fiancé Jenna had left him a year into the project, displeased with how ‘Flipper was obviously more important than me.’

Owen figured it was good riddance. If she couldn’t understand his care for his animals, then she wasn’t the woman for him anyway. He’d proposed because they’d been high school sweethearts, and she’d been understanding of a long distance relationship while he trained. However, considering how quickly she’d gotten into a new relationship after him, perhaps she’d had some help with her understanding. 

Footsteps sounded on the decking, and he glanced up to see a dark-skinned man who appeared to be of East Indian descent coming towards him. The man’s sharp suit seemed out of place in the industrial uniformity of the aquarium, but the man didn’t seem fazed at all. “So,” he said with a musical accent, “You must be Mr. Owen Grady.”

Owen stood, and faced the man. “Yeah, and who are you?”

A hand shot out. “Simon Masrani. Nice to meet you.”

The younger man blinked quickly. “As in Masrani Incorporated? As in the guy who-“

“Owns Jurassic World, yes.” His smile was huge. “And you, I’m given to understand, are a specialist with dangerous animals and their behavior.”

“Yes,” Owen answered, “What can I do for you?”

Masrani nodded. “Your Captain gave me a call. Seems he didn’t realize that I was in town – or that I knew more about what InGen is up to than he thought – but he allowed me to come here to speak with you. He recommended you for a new project that InGen is pushing, but with my silent blessing.”

Owen narrowed his eyes. “What kind of project?”

“Well, on the outside it’s about testing a particular species of dinosaur’s intelligence,” Masrani explained, “Though I believe that my dearest InGen might be up to some tricks. Hammond isn’t there to corral some of their . . . shadier aspects, but I hope to control the situation in time. Anyway, my personal interest is in showing people another side of nature.” He pulled out a tablet and pulled up a photo. “Beautiful creatures aren’t they? Velociraptors?”

“Real velociraptors are the size of turkeys,” Owen replied without looking at the photo. “What they breed out on Nublar and Sorna are Utahraptors, or over-sized Deinonychus, maybe.”

Masrani grinned, his eyes sparkling in glee. “Ah, and how would you know that Mr. Grady?”

“I did my Master’s thesis on the documented behavior of recreated animals. I studied the documented behaviors of raptors, Rexes, and the various herbivores,” the SEAL answered. “You can’t be thinking of cooking up more raptors. Those things are dangerous.”

“Ah!” Masrani said, wagging a finger in the air. “But why is that, Mr. Grady?”

“Because they are blatantly social animals that in all cases were raised in isolation. No parental figures showing them right from wrong, how to create a working pack structure, or to kill only to defend or eat. The original raptors made for Hammond’s park were sociopathic because they were shoved into a tiny enclosure with no positive human contact. Muldoon was a hack! If he’d had the sense God gave a goose he’d’ve insisted on a bigger enclosure, the explicit hand raising of the animals to ensure a trusting relationship with handlers, and he’d have given them tasks and games to keep their minds engaged.”

Masrani looked like a kid in the candy store. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! And that is why you are my choice for this program! Now, turn in your papers, get discharged, and apply for the position! This instant Mr. Grady! There are other behaviorists that are willing to give their left arm for this position, but after speaking to you, why, you’re perfect! The right balance of realism and passion!”

Owen was completely flummoxed by the whole thing. “What? You want me to get discharged from the Navy? Now?”

“Captain van Housen indicated that he believed you were pretty much there yourself, and when he described your dedication to your charge, well, I knew I had to meet you!” Masrani explained gently. “Now, go on! Go file the paperwork so we can get this ball rolling!”

A month later, Owen found himself being formally hired by InGen, a subsidiary of Masrani Global, to take part in the Raptor Response program.   
~~  
February 14, 2012

If anyone had told him that he’d be spending Valentine’s Day sequestered in a tiny office, discussing genetic design options for his new clutch of raptor eyas – he decided that using the term for a baby bird of prey was appropriate when speaking of Velociraptor young – he’d have told them they were crazy. Yet here he was, discussing options with a pretty young scientist named Mia. “Well, we have decided that avian and reptilian DNA tend to be the best of filling in the gaps in sequence. Neither have had the unfortunate side effect of causing spontaneous gender reassignments or parthenogenesis. For the first clutch, we were thinking of mixing Black Throated Monitor with a dash of swan, to help with the imprinting behavior you hope to achieve.”

Owen shrugged. “Hey, I’m just going to be the guy taking care of them. I’m leaving this up to you guys in the lab.”

Mia smiled, and Owen noticed that she seemed to be interested in him. He wondered if she was single. She was a pretty woman with dark blonde hair and verdant green eyes. “Well, we’ll get right on figuring out a good mix for the new raptors. We should have the first clutch ready to go into the eggs in a month or two.”

Owen nodded. “So, what am I supposed to do until then?”

“It’s up to you,” Mia said with a flirtatious look in her eye, “But a lot of us employees like hanging out at Margaritaville. Buffet gives us half-priced everything.”

“Oh, okay,” Owen replied, silently nodding to himself. Yes, she was hitting on him. “I guess I might see you there tonight.”

Mia’s smile was huge.   
~~  
Owen decided that he probably should explore the park while he had a chance. He wasn’t so interested in the rides, but he did wander down through the predator exhibits. As the sun faded into the horizon, he decided to head to Margaritaville. He passed the T. Rex exhibit, and made a mental note to go by in the morning. 

As he walked into the nosy interior of the bar, he noticed Mia straight off. She waved him over, and introduced him to more of the lab personnel. A swirl of faces and half unintelligible names went through his ears but the liquor was good. He felt himself relax a bit, but then he remembered why he didn’t drink often. He was a mopey drunk. Unable to bear the tinny, fake sounding laughter of Mia and her friends, he took his leave early, hoping the walk to his temporary rooms would help sober him up a bit. 

As he walked, he looked up at the moon. It was a beautiful, clear night, and he couldn’t help the wave of nostalgia that passed over him. His Aunt Zara used to sing to him on full moon nights, melancholy songs from days long past, and one bubbled up from his throat, half sung and half whispered. “ _Are you going to Scarborough Fair, . ._.”

His voice broke on the soaring notes for “parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme,” but the song soothed him like nothing else. A woman’s cough brought him back to himself, and he glanced to his left to find a woman staring at him with a slightly charmed look on her face. She was coming from the employee’s village, so he guessed she also worked at the park. She was pretty, with coppery hair and skin that was milk white. Light eyes were laughing at him as she gave him a smile. He saluted casually and said, “Evening.”

“Evening,” she replied back, before she stopped and reached towards him. “Are you a guest? Because you’re heading towards the employee’s homes, not the hotels –“

Oh, the pretty lady was stopping him because she thought he was a guest. “Nah, I’m a new hire. Just heading home for the night.”

“Oh,” she said, and Owen decided that he liked her voice. It had a note of sweetness to it, but it wasn’t high pitched and grating. “Well, welcome to Jurassic World.”

“Thanks,” he said, and the two parted ways. When he finally fell into bed that night, Owen regretted that he’d never thought to get her name.

~~  
Claire quickly forgot the man as she hurried down to the steakhouse. She was meeting Mr. Masrani for dinner, and of course the man liked to mingle with his guests instead of having a private evening in. She wasn’t surprised necessarily, but sometimes her boss’s foibles were a bit much. Mr. Masrani would get a wild hair, run with it, and God knew what kind of trouble everyone would get into. 

She was careful to smile when she got down to the main street, knowing full well that she needed to present a pleasant face to the world. Though most guests wouldn’t recognize her as the one who kept the park running at maximum, they would recognize the badge that proclaimed her part of the park’s management. It wouldn’t do to for her to appear off-putting to the park’s guests. 

When she finally made it to Winston’s Steakhouse, she gave the hostess a big smile. “Hi, Laura, how are you doing?”

The young twenty-something gave her a big grin. The daughter of two of the Stego handlers, the perky brunette girl worked at Winston’s in order to get her own pocket money. She was currently looking to go into the family business of handling the various assets that made the park their home, but for now she was patiently working her way through her schooling. “I’m doing great Ms. Dearing! How’re you?”

“I’m doing just fine.” She glanced around, trying to spot the dark head of her boss. “Is Mr. Masrani already here?”

“Oh! He is!” Laura exclaimed as she led the park director through the labyrinth of tables right to where the owner of the whole island sat, his laugh as distinctive as his lilting accent. “Ah! There you are Claire.”

Laura left the two alone with the promise of quick service that materialized almost instantly. The restaurant’s management was well aware that their own reputation was on the line. As Masrani took a sip from his drink he gave the woman seated across from him another smile. “How is my park doing?”

“Well,” she began slowly, “Attendance is down from last year, and –“

“That is not what I’m looking for Claire!” Mr. Masrani broke in with a wave of his hand. “I’m aware that attendance is down, but I care more for the experience of the guests! Are they having fun?”

“Guest satisfaction is in the upper eighties. The biggest complaint seems to be that the Gyrospheres are boring when none of the animals will come near them. I’ve already discussed it with Safety, and they are willing to tone down the field around the spheres. However, they are concerned that doing that will make the field ineffective as a deterrent.”

“There, much better,” Masrani muttered while shaking his head. “I will leave you to it then. Now, what is this new proposal that you have to help attendance?”

She smiled brightly. “I’ve spoken to Dr. Wu, and we agree that it would be possible to create a genetic hybrid.”

“What sort of hybrid?” A skeptical brow lifted over his eye. 

Claire reached into her briefcase and pulled out a file. “Dr. Wu has several ideas. He’s proposed a stego-triceratops hybrid as his first choice.”

“No,” Masrani said while looking over the typed up proposal. “I was something bigger, cooler, . . . more teeth. I have heard nothing but rave reviews for the Mosasaurus, and the T. Rex is still a popular attraction even after eight years. I want a predator.”

The redheaded woman nodded. “I think that can be arranged.”


End file.
